Episode 75. Slum White (2)
As the shoulder on the side holding the gun moved, he quickly rolled to avoid it. His body was dyed red as he threw himself into the pool of blood.
“Stop it.”
He stares at the guy who was about to pull the trigger again, and when he speaks softly, he winces and lowers the gun.
According to Richett’s satellite view, more and more troops are gathering near 71st Street. The number of gunshots sounded unusually high, so the response team must have taken a different approach.
In a way that secures survivors, even if they have to make some sacrifices. American kids are good at this.
“If you keep going like this, you will die doing nothing, let alone a villain.”
Richett took a picture of herself and floated it on the board to show him. Famous heroes and many armed forces having a conversation.
It is a scene where you can guess what kind of decision the villain response team made.
“You just have to kill the hostages and tell them to get out!”
“You idiot. A hostage has to be alive to have value. And, what if he doesn’t back down after killing him? What if they were willing to make sacrifices?”
“Ugh, no. only this much… . Whoa!”
Mumbling to himself with a serious face, he nervously throws his gun away.
After putting reality into the messy villain, it seems that he is finally thinking too. At this point, I can give you one final blow.
“Even thinking of the children in the slums, surrender yourself. That is the only way to repay the collateral you borrowed.”
“Fuck… . Do you have any cigarettes?”
“I don’t exist, but that person seems to be.”
After rummaging through the arms of a large black man, who he thought was a security guard, tied tighter than the others, a fine cigar came out and he lit it and handed it to him.
Whoo—
“Will it be life imprisonment?”
“There are a lot of cases where he comes out as a model person. These days, there are a lot of people who advocate for the human rights of villains.”
Chii.
The villain, who lit a cigarette in the blood pooling on the floor, picks up the gun that has fallen and puts the gun to his temple. Then he looked up at me
“Aren’t you going to dry it?”
“Cowardly bastard. Go back or not.”
That’s what I said, but I’m scared. You can make a big request to the Hero Association if you bring him back alive.
do not pull Don’t pull!
As if his earnest wish had worked, he grinned and threw the gilded gun again and forcibly pushed the door blocked by the old man’s corpse.
“Raise your hand!”
“Take your sleep. I’m sleeping! Don’t shoot! You fucking bastards!”
The snipers and heroes approach in an instant, subdue him and load him into the vehicle. I pushed those in need of treatment to the cops trying to get inside the bank.
“These people are bleeding profusely. You take some.”
“An ambulance will be here soon. We look inside—”
“Take him.”
Hold on.
Pressing the policeman’s abdomen with a gold leaf pistol stopped him as he spoke. He opened his mouth with a keen eye, so he quickly kicked the vital point and pushed him out of the bank, then locked the door.
“What are we going to do?”
“Miracle M!”
“Are you crazy!”
I heard the screams of the representatives of the troops and the heroes who had just gathered to surprise the villain.
I found the loudspeaker mic he was using and spoke briefly.
“Shh. Wait ten minutes.”
Hostages from hell and heaven shed tears as I approach them. Especially the older ones were even rude.
“Don’t worry everyone.”
Everyone was released except for the guards. Finding freedom, they exchanged glances with each other and then slowly surrounded me.
“Well, it’s not what you guys are trying to do. Ebosho, inspiration.”
I sat down next to an old-fashioned-looking old man, right behind the guard.
“… But why?”
“New York slums. How’s the situation? I don’t know much about this situation in this day and age.”
“It’s the worst.”
worst. There was a lot involved, and the old man’s wrinkled expression also predicted how backward it was.
And the pictures that Richett sent. The lower level of the Necroma Tower, a place that is no different from the Old Mt. human trash.
This is definitely an area that needs improvement. If you clean a place like that, you’ll have fewer Gblin minions.
Absolutely, it’s not because the villain’s plight is sympathetic and pitiful.
“Why would you leave such a place alone?”
“Even if we improve and change the environment, a similar type of slum can be found in other places. Isn’t that the world economy? limited resources. If someone enjoys it, someone has to give up. … At least the mayor here thinks so.”
“That is not a reason to abandon the slum. Well, I get it anyway.”
Then Richett puts two pictures on my retina. One is the mayor of New York and the other is this guy.
-The artisan of the New York market.
Aha. I can see why you didn’t raid the bank earlier.
“Everyone but this old man gets out.”
Did I say too little? why are you still
bang!
Aww!
When the last bullet in the gun is fired at the ceiling, the hostages burst out. I rolled the guard bound by the bondage gun and pushed it out.
In the process, there was a hero who was trying to catch me, but I paralyzed the area that was fed with the poison briefly.
“You come in too. don’t like it? Ugh, then you shouldn’t have messed with me.”
An unknown hero who desperately expresses his intention to refuse by rolling his eyes from side to side.
Read at noblemtl.com
Just looking at it is stupid.
He bound the hero with the remaining bondage and then sat down next to the old man again.
“Grandpa, the mayor of New York.”
“If you are going to use me to ask for something, stop. no use.”
Richett finds out that the mayor isn’t on good terms.
It’s useless asshole.
Politicians live by their image, but a son-in-law abandons his father-in-law in a situation where there are no civilian hostages? It is the social death penalty.
“I’m not going to tell you to go see that, so stay still.”
He took a picture of the paralyzed hero’s face with a clown sitting on the clown as if he had been hit by a villain, and posted it on social media. After enough time had elapsed for them to check, they grabbed the microphone.
“nice to meet. I am Manhyuk Nam, who came to help you from the Seoul Hero Academy in Korea.”
“Miracle M. Why the hell are you doing this? Let him go!”
As if the villain had left and was able to intervene, a siren woman’s voice was heard from the speaker inside the bank.
“Originally, I was going to just let that villain out, but ha. He said he couldn’t leave because it was so frustrating to go back to this town.”
“yes?”
“Slum. Isn’t that a place where people live? Why make a human garbage dump? You say it has gotten worse since the mayor was elected?”
“You are right. Say what you want.”
The voice has changed. A man with a low tone, not a siren woman.
“education.”
“What about education?”
“So they can transform the slum themselves. let me study It’s good to learn skills that can be used in a short period of time.”
“Let’s look at it positively. So free the hostages—”
widely.
Well?
The old man sitting next to me took the microphone from my hand and shouted.
“This body is not a hostage! And this young man’s argument makes sense. Carls. I know you’re listening. Build a higher education institution right now and send a teacher. I will take care of the escort and security.”
The speaker was silent, and after a while a strange voice was heard.
“All right. Father-in-law. Please stop.”
– It’s the market. It’s live now. And this is policy information implemented in New York slums.
According to Richett, there has always been an argument for purging the slums. It was this old man who took the lead. Vertex Bellsoft. He was the president of a famous private military enterprise.
-The mayor of New York was planning to create a public enemy called the slums to regroup the state split by the headlights.
That’s exactly what mankind did before extinction. Despite the presence of a clear enemy called Gblin, he created and isolates the socially weak for internal solidarity.
As a result, the underdogs surrendered to the Gblin, and the group to which they belonged blew through with a help ending.
“Let’s go.”
“A little friend?”
“I still have work to do. Whoa.”
As he gestures like a fly, the old man with one eyebrow raised takes a quick glance at the fallen hero and goes outside.
‘Ritchet. Ready?’
-anytime.
I picked up the microphone I had put down.
“I want something.”
“Miracle M. I understand that you are dedicated to helping the underprivileged. But it shouldn’t be done forcibly. An improvised policy is like a sandcastle. So come out now.”
It’s that low-pitched man. Probably a negotiator.
“I am holding the hero hostage.”
When I put the microphone to the stupid hero’s mouth, I cry out for help even though I didn’t order it.
“Sorry for being me! I want to live. Heh heh heh.”
The negotiator, who had not been able to speak for a while at that absurd lament, asked with a trembling voice.
“What do you want this time?”
“Locations of pyracsites around the world.”
Mining must be documented. Where it was mined, where it was going, where it was stored and how it was used.
“Is that enough?”
If you are a government person, you can search it easily. The same goes for Richett, who hacks with future technology. But, as I mentioned in the morning, the reason I have to ask is because I want it to become an issue.
There’s a live broadcast. Do you use this opportunity to blow it up?
“I will fill it out and send it to you.”
“No, say it. company name and warehouse location. all.”
“All right. First, Howmetal in Los Angeles—”
After an hour-long reading, I took the hero outside.
“You are finally seeing your face.”
A shady-faced negotiator appears from behind the siren and smiles.
“Is the company that didn’t say anything about the U.S. government?”
“… I do not know? I just said what I received.”
Does not matter. After all, the purpose of this show right now is to appeal to the public about the importance and demand of firaxists. Search volume alone would have increased thousands of times.
Richett fanned people’s purchase intentions by spreading unproven rumors that, at the right time, could be used for appreciation or to bring good fortune.
The existence of UVZ will only be revealed when VZ passes into Gblin’s hands. Until then, the goal is to secure it as much as possible and put it on a cutting board for easy cutting.
Chunkyung.
As I was afraid to achieve my intended purpose, silver handcuffs were placed on my wrists. Afterwards, the Miranda principle came out of the siren woman’s mouth.
“Let’s go together. It will not be a big deal.”
As she suggested, I got into the police car. I need the perfect alibi.
“Just one word please. Why did you tell me to support the slums!”
“The villain that Miracle Nam persuaded, Saint Gerb, came from a slum. Does this have anything to do with it!”
“What conversations did you have with the mayor’s artisan, please tell me!”
While driving, drones catch up and reporters ask questions.
I could block communication with the outside if I wanted to, but I said it was okay and they didn’t seem to stop me because they knew I wasn’t a criminal.
When I arrived at the local police station, I received a formal investigation and was imprisoned for obstructing the NYPD’s execution of official duties.
However, given that he was a first-time offender and made a major contribution to the arrest of St Gerb, a small fine was imposed.
“Sorry, you have to be here one day. Our bald chief might make the New York Police look funny.”
The siren woman bowed her head slightly and apologized, and I accepted it coolly.
“it’s okay. Just talk to the academy. Add some delicious rice as well.”
“That’s it.”
After that, the hostages and their families, who had regained stability, came to thank me. I let it go as if it was insignificant. and.
“I, thank you. Thank you for saving my brother and helping me.”
The children of the slums come with a glance and hand me a small amount of money. It must be their most precious thing. I took it and put it in my arms.
“OK. study hard I will use this for my brother.”
“yes!”
Finally, the mayor looked at me from afar and went back. So the next day came, and I left the detention center with applause from the sirens and some police officers.
At noon. The time when the sun is warmest.
“Shoot.”
– Lager.
next day.
The news of the death of Saint Gerb, who was boarding the bus to go to the camp, made the news very briefly.
I muttered as I watched the news from the container.
“You have to throw out the trash.”